


Close By

by kenson



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Merlin, Drinking, M/M, Merlin flirts, Oneshot, Oral Sex, Uther is mean, essentially Arthur loves Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 05:02:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11776059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenson/pseuds/kenson
Summary: “You know I am capable of dressing myself.”Merlin closes his hands on the layers of clothing he just busied himself with arranging and Arthur watches as Merlin’s eyelashes flicker up quickly until they were eye to eye and responds: “Yeah, but you like it better when I do it anyway,” and walks past him. Arthur puts his fist on the dresser and turns his head down with a hissing smile.God, he was so fucked.





	Close By

The slam of the throne room door is heard throughout the west half of the castle.

“Merlin,” Arthur shouts automatically as he all but runs down the hall. To observe this event from above would reveal a fuming prince and those too afraid to be in the wrong place at the wrong time; servants and even guard knights plaster themselves against the stone walls. Those familiar with the prince’s outbursts know to avoid the “superstitious circumference,” or, the area around Arthur no one dares to violate for their own good. 

Faithfully, Merlin was close by. “Close by” in Merlin’s definition is definitely not eavesdropping on Arthur and Uther’s arguments and is positively not galloping away when he hears footsteps near the door preparing how to cater to Arthur’s anger. Of course not. 

“Yes, sire?” Merlin responds as cool-headily he can manage. It wasn't uncommon for Uther to rile Arthur up after a considerable amount of wine for early dinners. This particular time Uther chose to re-assess a previous reconnaissance mission. The last thing Merlin heard through the door was the King explaining how the lives of the knights outweighed the outer-town’s peasant meager population.

“Nothing.” Arthur spits, but doesn’t dismiss the manservant. They walk together until the confines of Arthur’s room calms him a bit. 

“You shouldn’t let him get to you,” Merlin says quietly, mindlessly adjusting the prince’s sheets, awaiting an order. 

Raising his eyebrows in both surprise and offense, Arthur responds, “Excuse me?” Okay, maybe his room didn't calm Arthur as much as Merlin had thought. “Why’d you think you have the right to tell me how I get to respond to my own father? Listen Merlin. You don’t get it.” His last words hang heavily in the air, Arthur knowing Merlin never had a relationship with his father. 

Merlin blinks at him, “Is there anything else, sire?” The servant hisses the formality with a certain satire. 

“Make my bed.”

Merlin — standing between the bed and Arthur’s back sitting at the table — turns from the fully made sheets back to the prince. “Uh, it is made. Since this morning actually. Quite surprised you didn’t notice, I felt as though I did a particularly good job today considering—”

“Merlin?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

Merlin, close by, without a dismissal or a chore, stands hurting from the low blow about his father in the room with the silent man who gave it. “Close by” in Arthur’s definition does not result in feeling better and is definitely not how he gets through most days.

Arthur knows his anger isn’t always justified. The events discussed at dinner had already happened. No matter how much his father insisted the risk was too great, both the knights and the peasants ended up fine. Stewing would be the best way to describe the man’s method of dealing with his frustration. So, sitting there the prince’s mind wondered to how he may end up like Uther. 

“It makes my stomach itch.” The prince groans. “His lack of…”

“Empathy?” Merlin fills in. Arthur twists around in his chair immediately with an unreadable expression on his face. Merlin clenches his jaw and swallows. Neither of them say anything for what feels like minutes. 

“Gaius still needs to see me,” Merlin finally fills in with a matching lack of expression in his voice, conveying a lack of remorse for his words and a lack of care for Arthur’s state of mind. Arthur looks like he thinks it through thoroughly before agreeing and telling Merlin he better get on it. 

He is left alone. Alone with an anger matching his father’s and a self hatred that matches, well, himself. Too often he finds himself worked up like this. He sits tensely, mind repeating the stupid shit he’s said, or hasn't said, to Merlin today. Upset that every word which leaves his mouth somehow ends up wrong to his father or wrong to himself, the prince swats at a goblet on the table as he stands. He paces the room and tries to sleep.

†††

When Merlin returns the next morning at sunrise, he is taken aback by the state of the room. He had left it in near perfect condition but now the floors are muddied and Arthur’s clothes match, not to mention a cracked goblet on the floor. 

“Wake up, princess” Arthur stirred lazily at Merlin’s voice, and upon realizing his manservant seems his normal self, the blond smiles a small, guilty, smile into his pillow. “Care to explain what happened?” 

Arthur turns to take in Merlin, quickly standing and brushing past him he says, “Couldn’t sleep. Went for a ride.” At this, Merlin thought this incredulous and his expression matched his thoughts. 

“You did?

“Yep.”

“That still doesn’t explain how all this mud got here”

“I, the future king of Camelot,” Arthur turns around and places a heavy hand on Merlin’s shoulder and continues, “tell you I went on a ride, alone, at night, into a forest infested with bandits, and you’re only concern is this mud?”

Merlin states without hesitation, “You fell off your horse.” He cracks a blinding smile and Arthur can’t help but break his professional composure and laugh as he removes his hand from Merlin and sits down. Merlin takes in the sharp teeth of the prince before he turns his face away.

“No, I did no such thing. You know, the fact you suggested something so amateur of me really reveals how little faith you have in me, Merlin.” Heading towards the door, Merlin raises his eyebrows, purses his lips, lowers the eyebrows, and gives a [sarcastic nod.](https://giphy.com/gifs/justin-reaction-martin-shkrel-xT0BKNBeDmlxDkM51e)

Arthur smiles long after Merlin leaves to grab his breakfast. 

Merlin returns, delivers the man’s food, and begins cleaning the dirtied floor. Both of them finish their tasks in silence and, conveniently, at the same time. They rise and Arthur begins to undress from his night shirt while Merlin grabs his clothing for the day. In the quietness of Arthur’s room, the pair dresses Arthur. Once finished, with Merlin messing with the leather collar of his overcoat (he doesn’t feel tingles down his spine when the boy's fingers whisper around his skin), Arthur says, “You know I am capable of dressing myself.”

Merlin closes his hands on the layers of clothing he just busied himself with arranging and Arthur watches as Merlin’s eyelashes flicker up quickly until they were eye to eye and responds: “Yeah, but you like it better when I do it anyway,” and walks past him. Arthur puts his fist on the dresser and turns his head down with a hissing smile.

God, he was so fucked. 

†††

Later that day, Arthur catches Merlin by the arm in passing. “Merlin, by the way your services will be needed at tonight’s dinner. My father was not satisfied with his servant last night.”

“Seemed to get enough wine though!” Merlin retorted without missing a heartbeat. Arthur glared at him with the classic “you really can't say that, Merlin” look the servant was so familiar with. Merlin pulls himself closer to Arthur using his grip as leverage, whispering jovially and pointedly in the prince’s ear, “If we were alone, you would've laughed at that” and continues walking. Arthur closes his eyes and purses his lips together. Why did Merlin do this to him. Did he really have to whisper that? Did he really have to speak in a way that Arthur could hear Merlin’s smile? Did Arthur really just stand still and commit that feeling to memory? Yes. 

†††

While Gaius had put Merlin to work during the day, Arthur is inexplicably relieved when Merlin enters his chambers saying something along the lines of walking to dinner together. It’s typical for servant and master to meet at the meal itself. Well, it’s typical for servant and master to rarely interact, save for armor dressings. But. I mean. What’s important here is that they made it to dinner, even if they ended up in a shoving war on their way there. 

Once both Uther and Arthur were seated, the food began to explode from the kitchen. When Uther finishes his first cup of wine, Merlin starts from standing across the table from Arthur to refill the King’s goblet when another servant, Aelianna as Merlin recalls, emerges from behind Uther and promptly fills his wine. Annoyed by the fact he isn’t actually needed here, Merlin turns his head towards Arthur to find Arthur is already glancing at him, lips forming a slight-but-knowing frown and eyes quickly averting back down to Uther. Arthur wanted Merlin close by. Merlin understood. 

For the rest of the night, Merlin made sure to roll his eyes at Uther when filling up Arthur’s goblet when he was sure only the prince could see him. Meanwhile, Arthur tried to not choke on his food due to his servant’s audacity. 

When Merlin isn't committing treasonous facial expressions, he stands barely in the corner of Arthur’s eyesight. 

“Trying to keep up with me I see,” Uther nods towards Arthur’s hand, clenching his goblet. 

“Ah, but of course father, no one can stand to your wine limits.” Tongue in cheek, Arthur raises his wine and finishes the rest in three, considerably large, gulps. Merlin, rolling his eyes at Arthur’s ridiculous competitive nature this time, moves to refill the cup. Arthur tells himself to stop staring at the dramatic shadows cast on Merlin’s face, at his long eyelashes, at the dent in the middle of his bottom lip. He also tells himself to stop finishing his wine faster in order to feel Merlin close to him. He does none of this. 

†††

“Arthur, this might not be the best time for me to tell you, but you really can’t hold your wine that well,” Merlin jokes as they leave the dining room. 

“I suppose it’s because I don’t have to pretend that I'm not drinking, like some of us Merlin.” 

“Wha-I would do no such thing as hide behind the pillars and drink from my well disguised flask.” Arthur just stares at Merlin, eyebrows raised and a grin threatening to break the surface.

Merlin chuckles, “What? You really can’t blame me! You and your father are so boring.” Arthur’s stare turns into a gaping mouth as Merlin takes off down the stone hall with the prince hot on his heels. No one is wary of their proximity to Arthur tonight, even as the boys chase each other down. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Merlin,” Arthur says once they reach the closed doors of Arthur’s room. Panting, Melin looks up, laughing between heavy breaths. 

“God, you’re not even winded Arthur. It’s like you weren’t even trying to catch me,” Merlin muses.

“Oh you think? It’s not that I train every day to defend my kingdom, or that you always manage to avoid lifting a finger?”

“No, really Arthur, I’m quite concerned about you. Letting your servant steal wine, making a scene in the halls, and then not to even catch up with them, what does that say about your effort?” Merlin asks with sarcasm heavy in his voice. Still outside the room, Arthur steps closer to Merlin.

“You really want me to try, Merlin?” Maybe it was the wine which fuel his next steps, but before Merlin can respond, Arthur grabs him around the neck and tumbles them both into the dimly lit room until Merlin is pinned against the wall nearest the door. The room fills with laughter and Arthur’s right arm is pushed against Merlin’s skinny chest 

After a moment of silence, Merlin looks up and says, “Not bad, but,” and immediately raises his thigh to a point where it’s pushed flat between Arthur’s legs and pushes him off. The prince reacts swiftly, grabbing Merlin under his right arm as the servant tries to run away. Giddy with laughter and wine, Merlin tries to trap Arthur in a headlock, but Arthur, one step ahead, grabs his arm and spins it around his back, pushing both of them back on the wall. 

Both panting, with Arthur’s entire body weight pressing Merlin into the wall, the prince’s jaw goes slack. Merlin twists around quickly, keeping Arthur close. With a split-second stare between the two and Merlin’s lung crushing smile, Arthur rushes in to press his lips to Merlin’s with a sharp inhale.

Immediately, Arthur grips Merlin’s hips while Merlin licks his way into Arthur’s mouth, both of them desperate to get a taste of the other. Arthur brings his right hand up to push against the wall above their heads and laughs when he realizes Merlin’s lips taste of fresh oak and wine.

“Are we drunk?” The prince asks.

“I don’t care,” Merlin says as he kisses Arthur again. Arthur brings his hands to reach below Merlin’s ribs and pulls him off the wall and onto the night stand where Merlin sits. Arthur grips the sorcerer’s hair as Merlin moves down the prince’s jaw and neck. The moan this elicits from Arthur causes Merlin to pause at the curve of his neck, sucking even slower. At this, Arthur pushes Merlin away and before Merlin can look confused, Arthur is grabbing the boy's shirt and pulling it over Merlin’s head. Arthur inserts himself between Merlin’s legs and rushes back into a kiss before grinding against his servant’s surprisingly strong body. 

Arthur, realizing his speed might be overkill, begins to savor each touch while it lasts. The ends of his fingers burn against Merlin’s skin while his mouth slows on the boy’s shoulder. Soon, he feels Merlin maneuvering his shirt off of him. The slow fingers tracing up his sides is enough to send Arthur to his knees, pressing gentle kisses at Merlin’s hips.

Merlin, still too caught up in his I can’t believe this is finally happening and that its -so- good state of being, buries his hands into the golden hair. Arthur slides Merlin’s pants down with ease, working his mouth around the head of his cock. Merlin’s grip automatically tightens in Arthur’s hair, which the prince takes as an invitation to swallow Merlin whole. Merlin gasps at the sudden simulation, almost laughing to himself because, of course, even when sucking him off, Arthur does the most. 

Merlin tries to brace himself by putting his arms back on the nightstand. Arthur also attempts to gain better leverage by gripping Merlin’s thighs, but once Merlin cracks and, needing to touch Arthur, returns one of his hands to Arthur’s hair with a moan that sounds more like a whine, Arthur takes the hint that his servant is close. Arthur’s lips rise up and down once more on Merlin’s dick until he can feel the man under him squirming. Promptly, with a quick pop, Arthur’s lips are gone from his cock and are encasing one of Merlin’s nipples.

As Arthur stands, Merlin palms the blond’s crotch, hard under his pants yet. The awkward angle the pair are at doesn’t stop Arthur from directing them both onto the bed, albeit ungracefully, flopping down onto Merlin. Arthur meets Merlin’s eyes and Merlin immediately starts giggling, creating a chain reaction in Arthur. Arthur laughs even until Merlin is pulling him in and his lips are on his, their teeth clashing. 

The skinny boy moves his hips underneath the muscular man until Arthur breaks the kiss and whispers into Merlin’s ear: “Please.”

At that, Merlin rolls them over so he’s on top. Arthur’s hand finds Merlin’s cock while the boy works at getting his pants off. Feeling Merlin’s long fingers on his dick, Arthur grabs again at Merlin’s hips and flips them back over, fire re-ignited in his stomach. 

“Get the vial,” Merlin whines, his need for Arthur clear while slowly pumping his cock.

“How’d you know what’s in that, Merlin?” Arthur growls the name, while grabbing the vial near his bed filled with oil. Before he knew it, Arthur was pressing a finger against Merlin and pressing in. The stifled noise that came from Merlin shot a new energy, embarrassingly, straight to Arthur’s dick. He knows he’s been turned on with people, but it’s never been as raw as this, total need. 

Arthur raises Merlin’s right leg onto his shoulder as he pushes another oil-covered finger into Merlin. Arthur is pulled down into a hurried kiss by a hand on his neck, interrupted only when Merlin pants as Arthur inserts his third finger. Moving all three deeper into Merlin, Arthur takes his time stretching out the boy beneath him.

“Did you just have me come to dinner tonight so you wouldn't be alone with Uther?”

“Merlin, please don't talk about my father when I’m literally inside of you.”

“Then fuck me and I’ll shut up.” Merlin will always know what to say to rile Arthur up. The challenge in his eyes shines clearly when Arthur tenderly but quickly removes his fingers. Craving sensation, the head of Arthur’s cock send shivers of pleasure up Arthur’s spine when he pushes it to Merlin’s entrance. Arthur’s reaches for Merlin’s jaw, locking eyes as he presses fully into Merlin. They find their rhythm as easily as they do anything together: slowly, but not tentatively, until they're both comfortable, and then en masse. 

The only thought on both of their minds is “Why did we think “close by” was good enough?”

Arthur increases the speed and in turn his heavy panting only turns Merlin on more. The continuous thrusts of Arthur is the most grounded Merlin has ever felt. Both of them are helplessly on the verge of finishing and only after Arthur lifts Merlin’s leg higher on his shoulder do Merlin’s eye roll back and a guttural moan escapes his lips.

“Arthur, Arth—I,” Arthur takes Merlin’s cock, pre-come dripping down, and pumps it in perfect time with his thrusts. Merlin throws his head back as he comes, only for Arthur to bend down and bite down on his neck, seconds behind him. Arthur drops Merlin’s leg down as he rides out his blinding orgasm, eventually collapsing onto Merlin, his head perfectly curled into the curve of Merlin’s neck. 

After approximately a whole five seconds, Arthur places a peck onto Merlin’s neck, smiles, and stands up to find a cloth to clean them up. Merlin has to admit, the stamina of the future king of Camelot is impressive. 

“Unbelievable,” Merlin whispers under his breath after Arthur dips his shirt into the water on the table and begins to wipe the warlock’s chest. 

“What was that?”

“I said we should drink wine more often.” 

Even in the dull light, Merlin can see the prince’s sharp teeth. 

“You know I can beat you in a fight right?” Arthur asks as he lays back down on the sheets, wrapping his left arm around Merlin’s waist and pulling him close.

With his back pressed to Arthur, Merlin whispers, “I know.”

 

x

**Author's Note:**

> hey yall so this is my first fic and I lit no nothing about writing so if anyone wants to explain the difference between passive narration and like. good narration. hit me up.


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